


leave my body, blood and bones

by AureliaAstralis



Category: Daredevil (TV), Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, BAMF Darcy Lewis, Because some habits are so ingrained that it's instinct now, Daredevil Spoilers, F/M, Female Friendship, Gen, Law Intern Darcy Lewis, Male-Female Friendship, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-24
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-22 20:10:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3742096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AureliaAstralis/pseuds/AureliaAstralis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So maybe another unpaid internship wasn't exactly her mother's definition of moving up in the world, but Darcy figured that something nice and quiet and completely devoid of evil aliens was a good way to relax a little before applying to grad school in the fall. </p><p>Too bad nothing ever goes according to plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well, you can’t get any more interesting than space elves, right?”

“So tell me why you want to work for me again?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Darcy huffed, panting into the phone jammed between her shoulder and her ear as she hefted her luggage out of the trunk of a taxi. “Maybe because the only valid work experience I have is being a Starbucks barista at Culver?”

He made a gagging sound that had Darcy rolling her eyes as she unlocked the front door. “Well, what about that science credit thing? In New Mexico?”

“Doesn’t really help,” she muttered, grunting as she shoved her shoulder into the graffiti-covered metal until the door came unstuck. She hefted the overweight suitcase over to the bottom of the stairs, silently cursing the lack of an elevator. “Apparently, Starbucks barista and astrophysicist wrangler-slash-intern isn’t exactly what grad programs are looking for.”

“And how exactly is law intern-slash-gofer going to look any more legit?” Foggy asked dryly, and Darcy gritted her teeth as she lugged the suitcase up the first flight of stairs. Twelve steps, and she was already sweating – _fantastic_. “Granted that most politicians become lawyers first, but since you’re _not_ going into law… I’m not really seeing the connection.”

“Political psychology – like, why politicians make the decisions they make, do the things they do…” Darcy sucked in a breath and staggered up another flight. “Why people in power somehow almost always end up being sociopathic assholes. That’s the connection.”

“Oo-kay…”

She huffed. “Look, long story short, my thesis said that practicing law nurtures a few particular personalities types, common amongst the big-name politicians of the past century,” Darcy said, working past the pain in her arms. “But that’s a result of the types of cases they dealt with, their clients, their goals, their ideologies… etcetera, etcetera.”

There was a beat of silence. “You want to study us.” Foggy’s deadpan voice made a tired smile curl up her lips.

“We-ell, more like… gathering data?”

“Ugh, what have the hard sciences done to you, cousin,” he muttered, but when he sighed heavily Darcy grinned, fist-pumping the air in success. “Fine! Fine, you can come work for us. But you’re not getting paid.”

“C’mon, Foggy!”

“ _We’re_ not even paid, what makes you think you’ll be getting anything?” He snorted. “Once we start getting clients, we’ll talk.”

She scowled, crawling up the last flight and slumping over her suitcase with a sigh of relief. “Fine, but if I get evicted for then I’m crashing at your place. Or better yet, I’ll stay with Aunt Diana.”

“Don’t you _dare_.”

Darcy hummed. “I’m sure she’d be happy to hear about how her son actually broke his arm by doing keg stands, instead of preventing a mugging like she was told.”

“You are evil,” Foggy hissed. “ _Fine_ , you can stay with me, and you can have the bed! Okay?! Are you happy, now?”

“Peachy,” she replied cheerily, ignoring Foggy’s grumbling over the line. “When do I start, boss?”

“Once we get an office, that’s when,” he muttered. “We’re meeting with the real estate agent this afternoon, so hopefully…”

“Well, keep me updated, yeah? I’ll be unpacking and stuff…” Darcy said, listening for the click of the deadbolt unlatching as she twisted the key. “And I’ll finally get to meet this chick magnet that’s your best friend, which, by the way, I still don’t understand.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Foggy grumbled, “as long as Matt doesn’t get his grubby hands on you…”

“What?”

“Nothing!” he chirped, and Darcy just stood there as she pushed the door to her apartment open. “I’lltextyouokaybye!”

She didn’t even get a chance to respond before the call ended, but Darcy was too busy staring at the cat sitting in the middle of the floor, chewing on the dead carcass of a pigeon.

It took a few well-placed swings of her tote, plus her ugliest pair of socks, to get said both out of her apartment. A quick walk around showed no more cats or dead birds, but there was a sketchy looking suit jacket hanging in the closet with white powder dusted on the cuffs, and a half-smoked bong packed with weed that smelled as old as her Nana.

Tossing both out into the dumpster, conveniently located right below the bathroom window, she looked around the tiny apartment, sighing.

“Well, you can’t get any more interesting than space elves, right?”

* * *

It was less than half a day later that Foggy called her, Darcy’s jaw dropping as he chattered casually about murder attempts and nutjobs in black masks and hiring their first client to be their firm secretary.

So it wasn't space elves, but she wondered if she’d jinxed herself. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If Foggy couldn’t even afford to put up a decent sign on the front door, then the whole not being paid thing made a lot more sense.

“Hello?” Darcy frowned, trying to peer through the dirty fire glass of the dinky corridor. “Anyone in there?”

She rapped against the wood one more time, her brows furrowing as her eyes fell on the sheet of computer paper taped over the peeling laminate logo of the previous tenant. If Foggy couldn’t even afford to put up a decent sign on the front door, then the whole not being paid thing made a lot more sense. 

“Just a second!” There was the screech of a chair and some shuffling, and she could hear the click-clack of heels right before the door swung open.

“Hi, you must be Darcy!” The tall, willowy blonde woman smiled, but there was nervousness in her eyes that caught Darcy a little off guard, at odds with the neatly curled hair and smart outfit.

“Yeah… Karen, right?” At the unsettled look on the woman’s face, Darcy’s expression softened a little. “Foggy told me about you.”

Karen half-winced, half-smiled. “He did?”

“Just the general facts,” Darcy said, not mentioning how Foggy all but swooned over the woman on the phone. She shifted a little uncomfortably as she continued, “I’m sorry, though... about what happened.”

“Thanks,” Karen said quietly, her lips wobbling a little, and Darcy wordlessly took the cue to change the subject.

“So, this place, it looks…” She placed her bag in a chair, raising an eyebrow at the bareness of the office. “… nice?”

Karen scoffed. “You should’ve seen it before I started cleaning up.” She nodded at the little kitchenette. “I found a bag of Doritos that expired in 2009.”

“Ugh, gross.” Darcy wrinkled her nose. “Tell me it wasn’t Nacho Cheese?”

“Cool Ranch, actually – at least they had good taste,” Karen said, and they exchanged tentative grins as the front door opened.

Darcy held in her laugh as Foggy stumbled in, his eyes half-open with a cup of coffee in hand. “You know the whole ‘let’s stay out all night thing?’ ” he croaked, wincing as sunlight hit him in the face, “How about we skip the part with the eel?”

“Deal.” Karen laughed a little. “Foggy, your cousin – ”

Foggy barreled on, not really hearing her as he mused, “Hey, what do you think about getting a sign on the door?”

“Um, you have one?” When Karen looked to her, Darcy just put a finger to her lips, creeping around Foggy so she was standing right behind him.

He rolled his eyes, then winced as he wobbled a little. “A real one.”

“Well, if you can afford a sign, you can afford to pay your baby cousin,” Darcy drawled, and watched in amusement as Foggy flinched hard enough to pop the lid off his coffee cup, spilling dark liquid onto the carpet.

“Holy shit!” He whipped around, a glare on his face. “ _Darcy_ – ”

“That’s my name,” she chirped, beaming as Foggy groaned, covering his ears. “Hungover on a Thursday? Bad form, cousin of mine.”

“Like you have room to talk,” he shot back weakly, the words at odds with the note of affection in his voice. Sighing heavily, he rolled his eyes and stretched his arms out wide. “C’mon, let’s get it over with.”

Darcy laughed, slipping her arms around his middle and squeezing as he hugged her back. “…I missed you, Foggy.”

“Yeah, yeah, you brat,” he grumbled, but patted her back dutifully. “I missed you, too. Now get off – you’re ruining my badass lawyer persona.”

“You have a badass lawyer persona?” Karen asked doubtingly, the beginnings of a laugh coloring her voice.

“His dreams sometimes manifest in daytime delusions,” Darcy snorted, and Foggy glared indignantly just as the door opened again.

Karen’s face lit up. “Matt!”

Darcy spun around, blinking as a dark-haired man in red-tinted shades shut the door, leaning a white walking stick in the corner - and holy _shit_ , that bruise looked painful. 

“Hey, you think I’m a badass lawyer, right?” Foggy glared playfully at Karen, but when he saw the man he went a little pale. “Jesus, what happened to your eye?”

“Oh, god, are you okay?” Karen darted around the desk, stepping forward and reaching out to the man’s face, but she faltered at the last moment. Darcy frowned slightly. The discoloration trailing across the man’s cheek looked a hell of a lot like someone had taken a few fists to his face, and silently Darcy wondered what kind of asshole would be enough of a dickwad to punch a blind guy.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” the man said, smiling slightly, and his next words had Darcy blinking a little. “I just, ah… wasn’t paying attention last night. It’s my fault.”

“You need a dog.” Foggy sighed, but his eyes lit up. “Or better yet, Darcy! This is what interns are for!”

Darcy shot him a dirty look. “Did you just compare me to a dog?”

“Erm…” Foggy wilted a little. “No?” 

“I’m not getting a dog,” Matt said, scoffing a little, but he turned to Darcy with a more genuine smile. “You're Foggy’s cousin, right? I’m Matt.”

“Great to put a face to the name I’ve been hearing about for the past few years." She smiled, shaking his offered hand firmly. “Darcy, but you already knew that.”

He smirked a little. “It's nice to meet you,” he said, and even though she knew the man was blind, Darcy found herself feeling very much like an ant under a magnifying glass as his face turned towards her, his expression carefully blank under the pleasantries. “Foggy’s told me a lot about you.”

Darcy blinked. “That sounds vaguely ominous.”

“His favorite story is how you tased a mugger in the groin and dragged him to the police station,” he said casually, lips quirking up when Darcy laughed. Karen gaped a little next to her, as Foggy shook his head exasperatedly. “And apparently you make the best coffee.”

“When you work at Starbucks for two years you learn what _not_ to do when making anything coffee-related,” Darcy countered, but she was interrupted by a series of cheerful knocks on the front door.

Darcy watched as the other three exchanged looks, and she raised an eyebrow. “You guys expecting any visitors?”

Foogy stared blankly at the dark shadow silhouetted against the office window. “Was… that a knock?”

“Someone’s at the door.” Matt cocked his head to the side, raising his eyebrows as he pointed out the obvious.

“ _Our_ door?” Foggy stared at Matt blankly, Karen looking between the two somewhat helplessly, and Darcy rolled her eyes.

“Oh, for Thor’s sake,” she muttered, walking over and pulling the door open as she pasted what she hoped was a professional smile on her face. “Hello, can I help you, sir?”

The man turned around, smiling genially. “Yes, hi, do you do walk-ins?”

Darcy turned to look at Foggy, Matt, and Karen, who in turn exchanged looks with each other, and Foggy stuttered, “U-uh, sure?”

She could see the way the man politely held in a snort, and Darcy suppressed the urge to roll her eyes.

Badass lawyer persona, indeed.

* * *

“I represent a consortium with diversified interests in the private sector, both domestic and international." The man, who _still_ hadn't bothered to introduce himself, sat calmly with his hands folded on the table, with the ease of someone who'd done this before. "From time to time, we scout the landscape for promising talent to put on retainer.”

Foggy straightened, his chest puffing up as he smiled. “Retainer?”

The man nodded, but Matt didn’t look as excited as he asked, “Why are you approaching us? Why not a larger firm, Mr… uh…?”

“Confederated Global Investments is my employer,” the man said smoothly, and Darcy pursed her lips at the way he avoided the question.

“That’s not what I was asking.” She noticed Foggy send a warning poke into Matt’s arm, but Darcy silently thought Matt had the right idea. The man was _unsettling_ , in a way she couldn't quite figure out.

The man’s smile cooled. “It’s the only name relevant to this discussion, Mr. Murdock.”

“Ah.” Matt didn’t seemed phased as he went on, “So, why us?”

“ _Obviously_ ,” Foggy interjected pointedly, “the larger firms aren’t able to provide the same hands-on attention that we pride ourselves on at Nelson and Murdock.” Darcy could see him nudging Matt’s leg under the table, but the mystery man shook his head.

“No, no, it’s a fair question.” He tapped the pen in his hand on the table for emphasis as he said, “I’m here, because my employer does extensive business in Hell’s Kitchen, and who knows it better than two local boys who graduated from Columbia Law, _cum laude_ and _summa cum laude_?”

“Uh, the _summa_  part is politics,” Foggy interrupted with a sheepish laugh, and the man humored Foggy with a slight chuckle before he continued.

“You set up shop right here in your backyard.” Darcy watched as the man’s smile turned a little predatory. “Despite the fact that both of you were made a very lucrative offer from Landman and Zack in Manhattan, where you interned.”

“You’ve done your homework,” Matt commented dryly.

“My employer expects no less.”

“Uh-huh.” Matt sat up, straightening. “Then forgive me for being blunt – ”

“ U-uh, _blunt_ ,” Foggy stammered, pinching Matt harder this time, “might be a strong word...”

The man shrugged, leaning forward expectantly. “In my line of work I find it refreshing.”

“... What is that line of work exactly?” Matt’s barely concealed hostility had the other man stiffening, his lip curling.

“What my partner is _trying_ to say,” Foggy hastily laughed, “is that we’re still building a practice, so we’re very… particular, about our clientele.” The nudge was more of a shove this time, one that sent Matt’s leg careening into Darcy’s knee.

“I assure you, all my employer wants is for you to continue to be ethical, decent men.  _Good_  lawyers.” The man's expression was earnest, genuine even - but while Foggy melted a little at the flattery, but Matt remained cold and stoic. “And for that, for nothing more than your exceptional skills and your discretion, you’ll be fairly compensated.” He pulled an envelope out of his suit jacket pocket, and Darcy watched the man cautiously as Foggy slowly withdrew the check from the envelope. The shark’s grin was all teeth, one that had the hairs on the back of her neck rising.

“Uh-huh.” Foggy chuckled a little in disbelief as he shoved the check back in the envelope, stuttering in his excitement, “It’s… it’s fair. Th-that’s… that’s totally fair.”

The man glanced at Matt. “Your partner doesn’t seem convinced.”

Matt’s lips twitched. “Like Foggy said, we’re particular about our clientele.”

There was a moment of silence as the man stared at Matt, then laughing humorlessly as he asked, “I’m curious about your… clientele. Do they all end up working for you after you get them off for murder, or is it just the pretty ones?”  
  
Foggy’s jaw dropped a little as Matt’s hands clenched in his lap, Karen just staring speechless as the man leered at her, and Darcy cleared her throat pointedly.

“I was under the impression she was never charged for anything,” she said slowly, not flinching when everyone’s eyes turned to her. “ 'Course, I might be wrong... but I'm know I'm not.”

She met the man's stare head on, leaning back in her chair as she raised an eyebrow, and his gaze cooled. “Another client?” 

He scoffed a little as he turned back to face Foggy and Matt, clearly dismissing her, but Darcy’s answering smile was all teeth. “Well, I needed someone to help me out when I ran that guy over with a station wagon, right?” 

Matt cleared his throat as Foggy and Karen both sent her wide-eyed glances, but the man’s expression was positively glacial under the fake smile he was wearing. “Can you and Karen give us a minute, please?” Matt sent Darcy a pointed look, and she pursed her lips.

“… Sure, boss.” Darcy looked at Karen, who nodded silently as they left the room, the door falling shut behind them.

“Fucking dick,” she muttered, and Karen laughed weakly.

“He really is, isn’t he?” she murmured, and Darcy’s scowl fell away as the woman slumped into her desk chair, hugging her arms around herself. “How did he even…”

“People like that have friends in high places,” Darcy said simply, shrugging as she slid into a seat beside Karen. “Like I said, he’s a dick – don’t let him get to you.”

“I know, I just… no, you’re right.” The blonde sighed, shaking her head before looking up at her gratefully. “Thank you, though – for what you did in there.”

“Hey, it was my pleasure.” Darcy bumped their shoulders together, trying to smile reassuringly. “Besides, between defending you and listening to that soulless corporate robot suck up to our bosses, I’d pick you any day.”

Karen just stared at her, before her lips curved up into a wobbly smile. “Thanks, Darcy.”

She smiled back, only to glance up when the conference room door opened, her eyes sharpening into a glare as the man strode out with a mocking nod to them both.

“Ladies,” he said, his smiling expression bordering on a sneer, and Darcy couldn’t resist flipping him off as he shut the front door behind him, Karen looking a little more cheerful at her side.

* * *

“Ugh, the Wi-Fi’s checking out on me again,” Darcy muttered, and she squinted across the room at the brick of a router sitting in the corner. “Remind me again why our router-modem looks like it’s a dial-up from the 90’s?”

“Because it’s Time Warner, _and_ it’s Hell’s Kitchen?” Karen said, sending her an amused glance from over the screen of her computer.

“Premium real estate rates, my ass,” Darcy grumbled, “How the hell am I supposed to watch cat videos and browse Tumblr?”

“Let me check with the boys,” Karen sighed. “Maybe they’re having more luck.”

She heard the woman knock on the conference room door, but focused her attention on the windows spread across her screen. Hacking into the servers of a presently-defunct construction company was surprisingly difficult, Wi-Fi problems notwithstanding, but if Darcy’s hunch was correct than perhaps it wasn’t such a surprise. 

And really, it was extremely stupid of Union Allied-slash-Confed Global to keep their original servers online, but she wasn't complaining.

Vaguely, she heard Matt ask Karen, “You find out anything on Confed Global?”

“Yeah, uh... it’s a subsidiary of a holding company of a loan-out to a holding subsidiary and on and on and on.” She heard Karen scoff, “but that dickhead’s check cleared in about two seconds.” Whatever else that was said faded into the background, and Karen walked over to bang on the router a couple times.

Her computer gave a little chime as it connected back to the internet, and Darcy smiled in satisfaction as her hack worm continued to slip under and around the layers of firewalls and trapdoor viruses, slowly but surely inching its way into Union Allied's server systems. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the lovely comments, kudos, and bookmarks :) I'm a little stunned by the response, and I only hope I'll live up to the expectations! 
> 
> I'm going to try and update this once a week, probably on Thursdays/Fridays! Nothing's pre-written, so I'm hoping I can keep on schedule.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy bit her lip – gut feelings were there for a reason, and the last time Darcy had a ‘worse than disaster’ feeling, Greenwich was basically leveled by an evil alien spaceship.

It was just after lunch when she heard the phone ring.

“Yo, boss.” Darcy wedged the phone between her shoulder and her ear, brows furrowing as she studied the progress of her hack. The worm had slowed down considerably from its speed that morning, and Darcy sent an accusatory glare to the ancient router-modem hiding in the corner. "How's it going?" 

Foggy's voice was uncharacteristically devoid of his normal cheer as he said flatly, “Well, the prosecution’s only been speculating so far, so technically we should be in the clear.”

Darcy paused, blinking as she refocused her attention on the call. “And why don’t you sound happy about that?”

“There’s something way off about this, Darce.” Foggy exhaled slowly. “This guy – he’s giving me a _really_ bad feeling.”

Her snarky response died at the tip of her tongue. The Lewis-Nelson clan took intuition very seriously, almost religiously – and for Foggy of all people to say something like that, it meant it was bad.

“On a scale of one to disaster?”

“I haven’t felt like this since I got those stomach ulcers the week before the Battle of New York – and those were only a little worse.” Darcy bit her lip – gut feelings were there for a reason, and the last time Darcy had a ‘worse than disaster’ feeling, Greenwich was basically leveled by an evil alien spaceship.

“Did you tell Matt?”

“That’s the thing… he pushed to take the case, Darcy.” At her startled exclamation, Foggy sighed. “Don’t know, maybe he hit his head too hard this time... He said I was right about needing to take cases for the money, and he _never_ says I'm right.”

“That's because you're normally not,” Darcy interjected halfheartedly, but she bit her lip as Foggy's responding grumble sounded more automatic than sincere. The image of the bruises on Matt’s face came back to her, and his animosity towards the dickwad from Confed Global. Was it too far of a stretch? “Foggy, about Matt…”

“What about him?” She hesitated, and then bit her tongue. Darcy tried to convince herself she was being overly paranoid.

“Just… keep an eye on him, yeah? And try to focus on the case, Foggy – I’ll try to do some digging in the meantime.” Darcy glanced at Karen’s desk, her eyes settling on the letter that sat innocuously beside Karen’s closed laptop. She had a sinking feeling that this whole Union Allied-slash-Confed Global affair ran deeper than she’d originally thought, and if Foggy was having similar ideas…

“I know.“ Foggy’s voice was quiet, hesitating slightly. “Just... be careful, Darcy – if that Confed Global guy comes back, don’t antagonize him, okay? Promise me you’ll keep your head down.”

“... I will.” Darcy glanced at the screen of her laptop, her hack still running, and the lie made her mouth itch. She chuckled, joking to try and lighten the mood, “Careful, you’re going to make people think you actually like your bratty little cousin.”

“Can’t have that, can we?” He laughed a little, sounding for that moment a little more like the Foggy she knew. “Hey, I gotta go, okay? Say hi to Karen for me.”

“Will do.” He muttered his goodbyes and hung up, leaving the sound of the dial tone humming in her ear, but Darcy paid it no mind as she stared at Karen’s empty desk.

 The Union Allied letter winked at her mockingly.

* * *

“Welcome back.” Darcy looked up with raised eyebrows as Karen hurried into the office over an hour later, out of breath and sweating. “Enjoyed your lunch, I see?”

“Sorry, I went to see someone and got a little sidetracked…” Karen panted, wincing as she eased her stocking-clad feet out of her heels. She looked up to see Darcy’s frown, and her responding smile hardened as she continued a little defensively, “I mean, it’s not that big of a deal, okay? Matt and Foggy aren’t even around today – ”

Darcy cut her off. “Karen, I found the letter from Union Allied.”

Karen’s eyes shuttered, her mouth pursed in anger. “You went through my desk.”

“Actually, I was looking for your notes on the stuff you found last night… but it’s not like you made an effort to hide it. It was sitting on top of everything,” Darcy said archly, and her expression softened a little as Karen deflated in front of her, the anger draining away. “They offered you money, didn’t they.”

Karen grimaced miserably. “How’d you know?”

“I’ve had some experience with compensation packages,” Darcy said, smiling tightly. “At least, ones that come with a ton of bullshit nondisclosure agreements attached.”

Karen looked like she wanted to ask, but when Darcy gave her a pointed look she nodded in acknowledgement. “You signed them?”

“I didn’t really have a choice.” Darcy shrugged. “Couldn't really afford not to sign.” Karen frowned, the disapproval poorly hidden, but Darcy thought back to the events that followed the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. “Besides, there are more important things than money.”

_Like keeping Jane safe._

Karen was quiet for a moment, biting her lip as she stared at Darcy in contemplation, before she said, “They offered me half a million. _'For my consideration.'_ ”

Darcy was quiet. “And?”

“I don’t want it,” Karen snarled lowly, her hands curling into fists. “They can’t just bribe me into keeping quiet – into pretending like everything’s just fine when they killed Daniel Fisher, and when they tried to kill me!”

Darcy watched as Karen’s anger simmered, then drained out of her body as her shoulders slumped. “And I’m assuming you're trying to do something about it?”

Karen nodded. “I went to see the Bulletin reporter of the original Union Allied article.”

“Ben Urich?” Darcy raised her eyebrows. “You want him to write another article?”

“A tell-all expose,” Karen said, her eyes lighting up as she spoke. “About how Union Allied is actually Confed Global, just under a different name – how they killed Daniel, how they tried to kill me... people _need_ to know.”

“Karen, I’m all for taking down the corporations and everything, but... going to a reporter? Have you thought this through?” Darcy felt like she had to play devil’s advocate, even as Karen scowled. Confed Global wasn’t nearly on the same level as S.H.I.E.L.D., but after all the effort that was put into trying to take Karen out, she had ample reason to be worried. “I know you think you have the facts, but right now it's all speculation, at best.”

“There’s plenty of information, Darcy!” Karen bristled, “It’s just a matter of stringing the facts together, and getting it out there!”

“... then let’s run it through: one, Confed Global is Union Allied - there's no _legal_ proof,” Darcy stressed as Karen opened her mouth to interrupt, and continued ticking off fingers. “Two, Union Allied killed Daniel Fisher. All the evidence ties back to _you_ , Karen, not them. Three, Union Allied hired Rance to kill you. He committed suicide before he could be interrogated, so that’s a dead end too.”

“But there’s the security guard that tried to strangle me, and my old boss!” Karen didn’t seem deterred. “And there has to be _some_ kind of physical evidence out there, something that can get us access to their files, or a paper trail… this is just the surface, Darcy!"

Darcy surreptitiously pushed the screen of her laptop down.

"Think about it, a story like this could end up busting Union Allied for all the things they've done, and I’m sure there’s a whole bunch of people who ended up just like me, swept under the rug with a bunch of money as a consolation prize... and I bet they want to see Union Allied pay for what they’ve done, just as much as I do.”

Darcy studied her silently for a few moments. “I don't think you understand what you're getting yourself into.” She held her hand up at the blonde's protests, saying firmly, "No, just listen to me for a minute, okay? I get that you're angry. Okay, I _get_ it. But you have to realize, if they even get a hint of what you're doing? They sent someone after you twice, and that guy in the mask won't always be there to save you, Karen - you might be as good as dead."

"… I know that." Karen looked a little pale, but no less determined.

Darcy shook her head. "You went to a reporter, Karen - do you really think they're not going to figure it out? Especially when all you have is circumstantial evidence, and no sources to back it up?" 

"Ben's been doing investigative journalism since the seventies," Karen retorted. "He's got to have some connections, or know where to start looking for sources..."

Darcy bit her lip, watching Karen stubbornly stare back at her, and said, "Then you're going to need help." She opened her laptop again, "I've been trying to - " 

"No, Darcy."

She looked up, blinking. "What do you mean, no?" 

"I mean you can't help me." Karen exhaled slowly, shaking her head, "It's bad enough that you know, but Matt and Foggy... you can't tell them about any of this. At least they'll have plausible deniability, you too to some extent." 

"... That's not how it works, Karen." Darcy shook her head. She thought back to Ian, intern-turned-HYDRA mole, and his sneer that swam in her vision for months afterwards. 

 _"Basic interrogation 101, Darcy,"_ he had chided softly, as he squeezed her neck between his hands as Jane screamed from where she was tied to a chair. _"Use their loved ones against them."_

She shook her thoughts away, pushing them into the back of her mind. "I'm already in this, Karen - I might as well go all in." 

"I can't let you - "

"I'm not asking you," Darcy cut her off, eyebrows arching pointedly. "I won't tell Matt or Foggy, but you need someone to watch your back - and I'm pretty deadly with a taser."

Karen shook her head. "I appreciate that you're trying to help, Darcy, but you don't have to worry about me." Her voice was a little softer, bellied by the tentative smile on Karen's face. "I know what I'm doing." 

Darcy just looked at her, her face impassive as something in her chest plummeted into her stomach. "That's what I'm afraid of."

* * *

“Fucking _finally_ ,” she muttered, stuffing the half-eaten pizza slice in her mouth and wiping her hands on a towel, her fingers flying over the computer keyboard.

It had taken the rest of the day to finish hacking the servers, even after running it from her crappy apartment. Granted, it wasn’t as fast as it could’ve been – there might’ve been some Wi-Fi theft from the conspiracy theorist that lived next door, though it was still faster than trying to connect to the office network – but she cracked her fingers in anticipation as her worm ran the passcodes and slipped into the file system.

“Show me what you’ve got, baby.” Running all the files through one of her algorithms to match with names like ‘Daniel Fisher’ and ‘Karen Page’ as a preliminary screening, she watched as memos, bank transfer receipts, and blacked out records began to fill the empty folder she had waiting on an external hard drive. Hesitating, she fiddled with the code to also match with ‘John Healy,’ and hesitated before adding ‘Matt Murdock’ to the list of keywords.

Matt’s name came up with one hit, a file on Nelson and Murdock as a firm rather than just Matt himself, and Darcy huffed around her mouthful of pizza when she saw her short dossier.

 **_LEWIS, Darcy_ ** _(b. 1989 09 24): Political Science, Culver University ‘13, magna cum laude. Cousin of NELSON, Franklin. Internship with Dr. FOSTER, Jane and Dr. SELVIG, Erik (2011-2014). Internship at NELSON AND MURDOCK (2014-present). LOW Priority._

“I’ll show you _‘low priority,’_ ” she muttered disdainfully, but was happy to see that both Matt and Foggy’s priority ratings were also low. Karen’s dossier, however, had Darcy staring at the screen.

 **_PAGE, Karen_ ** _(b. 1987 05 29): Business Administration, New York University ’10, Kappa Kappa Gamma. Drug abuse patient at KENNEDY REHABILITATION CLINIC (2005). Intern at TISHMAN CONSTRUCTION (2010-2012). Personal Assistant at UNION ALLIED CONSTRUCTION (2012-2014). Secretary at NELSON AND MURDOCK (2014-present). MED-HIGH Priority – pending NDA refusal, meetings with URICH, Ben from DAILY BULLETIN – awaiting removal/disposal._

She blinked, rereading the words again to make sure she wasn’t just seeing things.

 _– awaiting removal/disposal_.

The pizza slice fell into her lap as she swore, “Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized that a little more than half of the episodes of Daredevil happen in a span of about _a week_ \- maybe I wasn't paying _that_ much attention the first time around, but how crazy is that? 
> 
> That's also why these first couple chapters will feel a little slow - Darcy's doing some investigating and drawing conclusions (some of which are wrong conclusions, but conclusions nonetheless) on her own, and is going to insert herself into Karen's little operation, making things a little more interesting. 
> 
> Next chapter, Matt and Foggy will come back!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This city…” Foggy shook his head. “Bad enough you get mugged, now they chop your melon off… what’s next, groping corpses?” He ignored the weird look Darcy sent him, choosing instead to drain his coffee with a poorly disguised grimace, sending Karen an apologetic look as he said, “Also, Darcy – maybe you should make the coffee next time?”

Darcy walked into the office the next day, stopped, and blinked a few times in disbelief.

“Darcy!” Karen emerged from the conference room, papers in her arms, and beamed in relief. “Oh thank god, you’re good with electronics, right?”

“Uh, yeah, no.” Darcy eyed the ancient copy machine sitting next to Karen’s desk with a poorly hidden expression of disgust. “I’m an intern, not a miracle worker – what’d you do, raid an 80s warehouse?”

Karen shrugged, looking decidedly shifty. “Just bought some stuff at an auction, last night,” she said, avoiding Darcy’s gaze.

“What kind of auction sells ancient office supplies?” Darcy paused, then groaned. “Karen, please tell me you didn’t.”

“Just wanted to get us some stuff to make the place seem more professional.” The blonde sent her a pointed look, gaze darting to Foggy’s form through the frosted glass of his office. The copier beeped loudly, and Karen swore under her breath as she hurried over, jabbing at the faded buttons on the control panel. “No! Oh, my god, come on  – _you don’t make any sense_!”

“Whoa, be nice to it.” Darcy swallowed her retort as Foggy wandered over lazily, instead pulling the printouts from the hacked servers out of her bag and laying them on her desk. “Y’know, for when the machines take over?”

“I can’t get any of this crap I bought to work,” Karen sighed in exasperation.

Darcy rolled her eyes. “Smack the sides a few times – should give it a kick.”

“Is it a bad time to mention the phones? All I hear when I try to dial is a bunch of clicks.” Foggy asked mildly, watching in amusement as Karen squatted down and hit the copier a few times, the brittle plastic rattling. “Could be the machines plotting, but I don’t speak computer overlord.”

Darcy eyed him warily. “You’ve been watching the Terminator again, haven’t you?”

“Of course not, do I look like I have a death wish?” Foggy scoffed. “Try telling me that the idea of Skynet helps you sleep at night.”

Darcy shivered. It had taken only one disastrous Terminator movie marathon in middle school to give both her and Foggy horrid cramps and nightmares for months afterwards, and ever since she had avoided the series like the bubonic plague. “Don’t say its name,” she hissed, and when Karen raised an eyebrow at both of them questioningly, she muttered, “Let's just say childhood trauma has a different meaning in la casa Lewis-Nelson.”

“Er, alright...” Karen sighed heavily, shuffling papers again. “Also, rats chewed through the main lines – ”

“The who what now?” Foggy immediately pulled his feet up from the floor, and Darcy’s head snapped up in alarm. “Did you say rats?!”

“Phone guy’s working on it now, but the exterminator’s coming in Monday.”

“Oh, hell no,” Darcy muttered, plopping into her seat and pulling her knees up until her feet were on the seat just as Matt pushed open the door. “Four days with rats? Can I work from home?”

“Then who would make the coffee?” He sent Darcy a smile, leaning his cane against the wall. “Hey, you guys hear anything on the news about a Russian getting his head cut off?”

“Russian?” Karen furrowed her brows, staring at Matt in surprise. “In Hell’s Kitchen?”

“This city…” Foggy shook his head. “Bad enough you get mugged, now they chop your melon off… what’s next, groping corpses?” He ignored the weird look Darcy sent him, choosing instead to drain his coffee with a poorly disguised grimace, sending Karen an apologetic look as he said, “Also, Darcy – maybe you should make the coffee next time?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Darcy waved her hand, her narrowed eyes fixed on Matt. "When you say Russian, you aren't talking about the little old men who sell borscht at the neighborhood bodegas, are you?"

"Don't know." Matt shrugged. "Just overheard some people talking..." 

"Huh." Darcy raised her eyebrows doubtfully as she made out the faint purple of an old bruise peeking out from under his pressed collar, but bit back her words as a sharp rap on the door drew her attention.

“Uh, excuse…?” An elderly lady stood timidly at the door, her eyes darting between all four of them nervously before she began digging in her bag for a piece of crumpled paper. “Is this, um… _Senor_ Foggy law?”

“Y-yes, that’s me!” Foggy beamed, standing up too quickly and nearly spilling coffee all over the front of his suit. “Ack – sorry, ma’am, how can we help you?”

Darcy exchanged glances with Karen, rolling her eyes. “At least he was somewhat lucid this time,” she muttered, and Karen smothered her responding snort.

* * *

“Bess Mahoney?” Foggy looked surprised. “Brett’s mom?”

“ _Si_ , she refer me.” Mrs. Cardenas smiled. “ _Dice que le ama puros_.”

Karen looked a little confused. “Um, something about cigars?”

“I think it was that she said she loves the cigars.” Darcy frowned a little. “Not sure, I’m a little rusty.”

Foggy looked at the both of them incredulously. “You know Spanish?”

“Just what I remember from high school.” Karen smiled modestly, whereas Darcy shrugged.

“Picked some stuff up here and there,” she said, leaving it at that.

Matt looked at her curiously, but he cleared his throat and asked, “Mrs. Cardenas, tell us what happened?”

“ _Mi casa es_ … um, rent control.” She coughed a little, fidgeting. “But the landlord, _Senor_ Tully – ”

“Wait, Armand Tully?” Foggy grimaced. “As in the sleaze bag that owns buildings all over town?”

“ _Si_!” Mrs. Cardenas exclaimed. “ _Y Senor_ Tully, eh _… quiere convertir el edificio en condominios de lujo y quiere echarlo_ – ”

“He wants to convert the apartments to condominiums,” Karen translated, as Mrs. Cardenas nodded quickly. “And he wants them out.”

“ _Hombreros llegaron semanas atras_ ,” Mrs. Cardenas continued, her voice rising in volume as she became angrier, “ _haciendos e pasar por_ – ”

“Men came weeks ago,” Karen said hurriedly, “They said they were workers…”

“ _Demolieron nuestros pisos con mazos_ – !”

“And they destroyed the apartments with a…” Karen bit her lip. “I don’t know that last word.”

“Sledgehammers,” Darcy offered, leaning over the table, before sitting back in her seat. She raised her eyebrows when everyone looked at her in surprise. “What?”

“She’s right,” Matt said, and Karen blinked. “Where’d you say you learned Spanish again?”

“Around.” Darcy slouched deeper in her seat. “Where did you learn?”

“Around,” Matt said easily, and smiled back at her. She debated about giving him a stink eye, but it wasn’t like he’d see it anyways.

“It was college, actually.” Foggy interjected, looking between the two of them in confusion, before joking to break the odd tension that had settled over the room. “But, y’know, if you ever have a client that wants to chat in Punjabi… I’m your man.”

Karen smiling weakly, before looking at Matt. “Um, do you want to do this?”

“No, no.” Matt glanced at her. “I like listening to the sound of your voice.”

_Did he really just – ?_

Karen’s face turned a soft pink.

 _Yup, he did._ Darcy stared at him. The whole chick magnet thing was starting to make a lot more sense.

Foggy rolled his eyes, sighing with a note of irritation. “Go on, Mrs. Cardenas.”

“There is damage, _en todas partes_.”

“Everywhere.”

“ _Los fregaderos y los tubos ya no trabajan_ – ”

“They have no working sinks or pipes – ”

“ _No tenemos agua ni electricidad durante dias_ – ”

“They don’t have water or electricity for days.” Both Karen and Foggy looked frazzled, as if they couldn’t believe what they were hearing, but Matt stayed stoic as Mrs. Cardenas continued.

“We call _policia_. We speak to the officer,” she said, her shoulders slumping. “ _Pero ellos no ayudar_.”

"The police couldn’t help..."

 _“Policia_ say it is a city issue.” Mrs. Carendas looked down at her hands. “ _No sabemos que hacer_.”

“They don’t know what to do,” Karen said quietly, and as Mrs. Cardenas began to cry softly she stood up and wrapped her arms around the elder woman’s shoulders. Darcy quietly darted out to grab a pack of tissues from her tote, pulling out a few and pressing them into Mrs. Cardenas’s hands.

“ _Gracias_ ,” she murmured, reaching out to clasp her hand.

“ _Claro_.” Darcy tried to smile, squeezing back comfortingly.

“This says Tully offered them 10,000 to give up their rent control and vacate the premises,” Foggy said, scanning the letter that Mrs. Cardenas had showed them earlier. “Maybe we can pressure him into giving a better payout?”

“No, _Senor_ Foggy,” Mrs. Cardenas interjected forcefully. “We do no want money – we want to _stay_ in our homes.”

Foggy swallowed, looking down at the paper again, and Karen looked like she could empathize.

“Mrs. Cardenas, _vamos hacer todo que lo podamos_ ,” Matt said calmly, smiling reassuringly. “Foggy _hablara con su abogado del agentadores de tado y estaron contacto_.”

“ _Gracias, Senor_ Murdock.” Mrs. Cardenas sighed shakily, dabbing at her eyes as she smiled in hope. “ _Muchas gracias_.”

He smiled, tapping the table with his fingers. “ _Bueno_.” He rose, Karen and Foggy following suit, and Darcy helped Mrs. Cardenas stand, smiling as the woman patted her arm in thanks.

“This way, Mrs. Cardenas.” Darcy let Karen guide the woman out of the conference room, following after them as they made their way to the front door.

“I am fine, you stay,” Mrs. Cardenas insisted, but Darcy and Karen exchanged twin nods of understanding.

“Let me walk you out, at least, Mrs. Cardenas,” Karen said gently, pulling the office door open. “Just so we know you got out okay.”

“Ay, you are such good girls.” She took Karen’s proffered arm, but not before pressing kisses to each of Darcy’s cheeks. “ _Adios_ , Miss Darcy.”

“ _Hasta luego_.” Darcy nodded to Karen, and the blonde steered the older woman out into the corridor. She watched as they turned the corner at the end of the hall, and went back inside just as Matt and Foggy strode out of the conference room.

“… you know who reps him?” Foggy looked like he was going to tear his hair out, as Matt looked like he was enjoying Foggy’s hyperventilating. “Landman and Zack! Landman and mother-freaking Zack, man!”

“I thought they hate you,” Darcy said, and Foggy turned to her with wide eyes.

“They do!” Foggy sighed heavily, “We’ll need to load for bear if we’re gonna take them on.”

Matt just smiled. “I’ll hit the precinct to check for complaints against Tully.”

“I can’t go to L and Z alone! They’re gonna shark attack me, Matt,” Foggy panicked. “Look at me, I’m delicious!”

“Well, take Darcy!” Matt shrugged, nodding in her direction. “Isn’t that what interns are for?”

“Oh, _hell_ no.” Foggy looked terrified. “Remember the one time Darcy visited L and Z?”

“… Oh.” Matt paused. “Right, never mind.”

“Hey, it wasn’t that bad!” Darcy protested.

“You called our boss a soul-sucking robot and then dumped guacamole on his suit!” Foggy’s laugh was on the verge of hysteria. “His dry-cleaning bill was a week’s worth of my monthly paycheck!”

“Well, there’s always Karen.” Matt laughed, taking pity on him. “Darcy can come with me… if you’re interested?” He looked to her, and she nodded in surprise.

“Haven’t been to a police station in a while,” she said. “Plus, I can’t let Karen pass up on a shark feeding – those are so far and few between…”

“You’re hilarious,” Foggy said flatly, as Matt chuckled. “Friggin’ hilarious.”

* * *

“Look who it is…” Darcy grinned as she saw the man sitting at the front desk, who closed his eyes in pain when his gaze landed on her. “Murdock. … Lewis.”

Matt nodded. “Sergeant.”

“Hi, ‘honey!” she chirped, and the man let out a groan. “How’s Bess?”

“It’s _Ma-_ honey, Darce. _Ma-ho-ney_.” He sighed heavily, ignoring Darcy’s beaming grin as he kept writing. “Still smells like a stogie, but otherwise…”

“I keep telling Foggy not to get her cigars, but…” Matt chuckled, shrugging his shoulders, but Brett shook his head in fond exasperation.

“Nah, she’d sneak ‘em one way or the other... Crafty old bird.”

Matt shifted, nodding. “She's why I’m here actually; friend of hers has a case we’re looking into.”

Brett looked up, eyebrows raised. “You going after Tully?”

“Yeah, you know him?”

“...Yeah.” He scoffed a little, looking frustrated. “Yeah, the guy’s a real scumbag… but he stays _just_ this side of ordinance, so there’s nothing we can do.”

Matt hummed. “Can you pull some copies of the complaints? Maybe get me a minute or two with the officers who took them?”

Brett eyed him, his eyes flickering to Darcy momentarily. “You really think you and Foggy can help?”

“Yeah," Matt sounded optimistic. "We can try.”

Brett studied Matt for a moment, and then sighed as he straightened up. “Let me see what I can find.”

Matt smiled. “Thank you.”

“Just keep an eye on her, yeah?” Brett muttered, giving Darcy a glare that she pointedly ignored. “That one gets herself into trouble. All the Lewis-Nelsons do, but she’s one of the worst.”

“Love you too, ‘honey,” she snarked back, and Brett threw his hands up in the air.

“For the love of _God_ , woman, it’s – ” He sighed, turning around and storming off to the back room as he chanted to himself, “Just calm down, just calm down....” 

“Too easy,” Darcy muttered, and slid next to Matt as he took a seat on a bench.

“So where _did_ you learn Spanish?” he asked, and even though he didn’t see Darcy’s questioning glance he clarified, “Your accent’s pretty good – it sounds Columbian.”

“Good ears, Murdock.” Darcy sighed, leaning into the seat. “My roommate in college was Columbian, actually. She taught me Spanish because my major was international relations.” 

“International relations?” He cocked his head to the side a little. “I thought you were political science.”

“I switched majors three times, actually.” Darcy kicked the ground with her foot, absentmindedly tracing the scuffmarks on the floor with the toe of her flats. “Started out in history with concentrations in Russian culture, then went into international relations, then poli-sci. Ma never understood why I didn’t want to own a deli.”

Matt smiled, looking a little distracted as he said, “Foggy was supposed to be a butcher.”

“It’s the family business,” Darcy said frankly. “Our great-great grandfather and granduncle were butchers from a tiny farming town in Iceland called Lauwas– they came to the U.S. in the late 1800s and opened a little butcher shop-slash-deli on Ludlow and Houston.”

“Ludlow and Houston?” Matt paused, his attention snapping back to Darcy. “Your great-great grandfather and granduncle were the Iceland brothers?”

“Like I said, it’s in our blood.” She shrugged. “Ma says that Grandpa made it his mission to win back the deli from the Katz boys, but when it stopped being a family business he decided to open shop in Hell’s Kitchen. Everything kinda just went from there.”

“Foggy never told me that.”

“Nowadays, nobody knows who the Iceland brothers are, so there’s really no point.” Darcy rolled her eyes. “And plus, Foggy just likes to tell everyone that he defied his butcher destiny through law books and suits.”

Matt chuckled. “That he does.” They fell into silence, Darcy staring down at her nails, but out of the corner of her eye she saw Matt’s hands tighten around his cane, his fingers growing bloodless and pale.

“Dude, your hands – ”

There was an ear splitting crack, one that had her ears ringing as she tried to orient herself, but the two more followed in quick succession had her  head pounding. Darcy didn’t even realize that Matt was swaying on his feet until she reached up to pull him out of the way, just as a slew of police officers rushed past.

“Matt!” She waved a hand in front of his face, the movement too slow to create any significant breeze, and she had to pry the walking stick from his hands. “Matt!”

“T-too much,” he slurred, and Darcy quickly clamped her hands over his ears, watching as his frame relaxed into the bench. He raised his hands to press on top of hers, further blocking out the sound, and Darcy bit her tongue and tried to ignore the pounding of her skull as she sat with him.

It wasn't until a good minute later that he tugged at her hands,and she nodded before letting go. “You okay?” she asked softly, trying to keep her voice down.

“Yeah.” He sighed, pulling off his glasses with shaking hands, and Darcy was surprised to see the signs of a fresh black eye as well as a few cuts that looked fairly recent.

“Oh god, your face – ”

“Ran into a telephone pole,” he said with a self-deprecating chuckle, but Darcy knew what bruises from a punch looked like.

“That’s not from a telephone pole.” Matt was quiet, and Darcy pressed forward. “Matt, if there’s someone messing with you – ”

“I’m fine, Darcy,” he interrupted her quickly, reaching out and feeling around for his walking stick.  She felt a little bad as she held it away from him, but she was worried.

“You’re not okay.” He tensed as she continued, “You come in with new bruises and cuts every few days, and two days ago you could barely bend over, let alone walk without looking like you were in pain.”

“It’s not something you need to worry about, Darcy.”

“You’re my cousin’s best friend, so I'm sorry but yes, it is my concern,” she bristled. “Foggy’s a little oblivious, but he’s not that dense – he knows something’s fishy, but he hasn’t said anything out of respect of your friendship.”

Matt pursed his lips, slipping his glasses back on before standing abruptly and holding out his hand. “Please give me my cane, Darcy.”

She stared at him waiting for three seconds before exhaling and pressing the strap of his cane into his hand.

“Thank you,” he said stiffly, “I’m going to make a few more stops, but you can head back to the office. We shouldn’t leave the place empty during the day anyways.”

Darcy bit her lip, torn between apologizing and her worry. “… Okay.”

“I’ll see you later.” He nodded, and then strolled out, leaving Darcy sitting on the bench.

* * *

She didn't know how long she sat there, staring blankly at her shoes, until a pair off foreign feet broke through her vision.

“Where’s Murdock?” She looked up to see Brett, staring down at her brusquely, but his gruff expression softened when he saw her downcast appearance. “… hey, hey, you okay?”

“Yeah... yeah,” she said, forcing herself to smile. “Just… I wasn’t really expecting that.”

“Happens sometimes, y’know? These Russians… always got a couple screws loose,” he said, looking a little sympathetic as he shook his head. “You and Murdock better get going, Darce – you guys don’t need to be around when they’re taking out the body.”

She nodded shakily, standing up and making her way outside, but her brain was focused on something else entirely.

_Those Russians…._

She pulled out her cell phone and scrolled through her contacts list until she found a name, pressing the call button and listening as the dial tone rang in her ear. 

There was a click, and then a muffled greeting." 'erro?" 

She sighed in relief. "Hey, you busy right now?"

"Ohn schec." There was the faint tinkling sound of metal against metal, a bark, and some low, good-natured grumbling. "... goddammit, not the pizza - !"

She chuckled, feeling the tension in her shoulders lessen a little. "So I guess Lucky failed doggie training again?"

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Lewis." She heard a heavy sigh, "So to what do I owe the pleasure?" 

"Well, I kind of need a favor." She listened as he hummed. "Actually, make that two. First, what do you know about the Russian mob?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to rematch the interview scene for this at least twelve times to make sure I got the Spanish right, and I'm still a little iffy on it. I'm like 90% sure it makes sense, but if it doesn't... well, I did try. If anyone wants to correct any errors, feel free to point them out! Also, excuse the fact that I don't have any accents on the vowels - my computer was not cooperating :( 
> 
> And yes, Darcy and Foggy's great-great grandpa & granduncle were indeed the original owners of Katz's Delicatessen, home of the best pastrami on rye sandwich in NYC and where Harry met Sally. I took the butcher story and ran wild with it. 
> 
> Also, I'm wondering if any of you will get the Ultron reference I put in, so let me know if you figure it out?
> 
> Thanks for all the support! See you next week :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the apartment door opened, Darcy was greeted with a resounding bark and a wet nose to her crotch.

When the apartment door opened, Darcy was greeted with a resounding bark and a wet nose to her crotch.

"Ack! Lucky!" Darcy scrambled backwards, trying to avoid the cold wetness trying to notch itself into the thin fabric of her sundress. "Down, boy! Down!"

"Serves you right for not visiting." In the doorway, Clint sniggered as he watched her try and dance around Lucky's nose. "Lucky, sit!" Whimpering slightly, the dog plopped his butt to the floor, panting up at Darcy with a doggy smile that had her insides melting.

"Gah, you're too adorable," she muttered, bending down and letting Lucky lick at her cheek as she scratched around his neck. "Who's a good boy? Who's a good boy?" 

"C'mon, get in before Tito yells at us for disturbing the peace again." Clint rolled his eyes, stepping aside as Darcy slipped around him, with Lucky at her heels. "And what kind of friend are you anyways, Lewis? Coming around empty-handed..." 

"You think so ill of me, Barton," Darcy clutched at her heart in faux pain, dropping her tote bag onto the counter with a thump. "Too bad then, guess I'll just have to enjoy this, all by my lonesome self..." 

She pulled out a pack of coffee grinds, and Clint's gaze darted to the label, his face lighting up. "I take it back, you're my favorite person ever and you can come visit me whenever you want." He reached out and snatched the package before she could try to play keep away, and promptly tore open the top, inhaling deeply. He sighed in satisfaction, "Oh, thank god." 

At her feet, Lucky whined, and she cooed at him, "You didn't think I forgot about you too, did you boy?" Darcy waved a greasy paper bag in front of Lucky's nose, laughing as he tried lunging for the bag. "That's right, extra cheese, just for you, cutie." 

"Aww, Darcy..."  Clint pouted. "You got Lucky pizza and you didn't bring any for me?"

She shrugged, letting Lucky snatch the slices from her and plopping onto the floor, gnawing at the crusts. "Hawkguy gets coffee, Pizza Dog gets pizza, and Lady Hawkguy gets _fancy_ coffee," Darcy said, placing a bag of Blue Bottle coffee grinds on the counter. "Speaking of which, where is your better half?" 

"I hate it when you call me that, " Clint grumbled. "... Katie's out in Delaware visiting her aunt - she'll be pissed she missed you." 

"We'll do Sunday brunch next week, my place." Darcy gave Lucky a final pat on her head, and turned to face Clint. "So? Anything?" 

"Loads, actually." Clint produced a folder out of nowhere, sliding it across the counter towards her, and she flipped it open to see two mugshots clipped to the front page. "I got in contact with some sources - "

"You mean you asked Tasha." 

" - and did some surveillance of my own,  _thank you very much_ ," he said pointedly, "and the guy pulling the headless horseman act is bachelor number one." 

"Anatoly Ranskahov?" She squinted down at the small print beneath the page. "My Cyrillic's rusty, but this says they're supposed to be rotting away in some Siberian prison."  

"Officially, anyways." Clint took another deep breath, sighing happily, and started making a new pot of coffee. "Unofficially, the Russians don't want people knowing that the two  _sovietnik_ of the  _Solntsevskaya Bratva_  escaped one of the most secure prisons in the world."  

"And they're  _here_?" Darcy looked up incredulously. "In  _New York_?"

"Hell's Kitchen, if we're being precise." Clint nodded grimly. "They're in a lot of hard core shit - drug transport, human and child trafficking, arms smuggling, counterfeiting... and they've been looking awfully friendly with the Triad and Yakuza lately."

"The Chinese and the Japanese?" Darcy frowned. "I thought.... but doesn't the Bratva hate the Yakuza?" 

"Well, looks like they resolved their differences." Clint walked around the counter, leaning over to flip through the file and pull out a few photos. A few were grainy night shots taken from a security feed, but others were clearly the work of a PI, or, judging by the angle of the shots, someone who really liked high places. "Tasha's putting out some feelers, but word around the street is that bachelor number two, Vladimir, is offering a good hunk of cash for his brother's killer."

"Who is...?"

"The ' _Devil of Hell's Kitchen_ ,' apparently." Clint snorted, rolling his eyes at the moniker, but Darcy furrowed her eyebrows.  

"He thinks the guy who saves teenage girls from getting raped and beats up muggers  _beheaded_  his brother?" 

He shrugged. "Well, this masked dude did toss a guy off the roof of an eight story building, so..." 

"... Still." Darcy paused, then asked, "How much, out of curiosity?" 

"Rumor has it at a million." 

She whistled lowly. Tracing a hand over the image of the man in the mask, she murmured, "Question is, why is Matt so interested in a guy from the Russian mob?"

"You tell me. Wasn’t easy figuring out who the guy was, being so high up in the ranks and all. Kinda curious about how he heard about it in the first place." Clint drummed his fingers on the counter top, his eyes fixed on the coffee maker. At the sound of the beep, he promptly snatched the pot and took a swig, sputtering a little at his burning tongue. "Mm - _aa_ ow, ow..."

"I mean, my best theory is that he's getting threatened about his rent or something, like the client I told you about, but that doesn’t explain the Russian connections… unless they’re the ones threatening him?" Darcy sighed. "Ugh. I dunno, there's no goddamn way that guy is falling down staircases like three times a week, but who the hell would beat on a blind lawyer?"

"I'd say ask the tracksuit goons, but haven’t shown their ugly mugs ‘round here lately..." Clint made his way over to the couch, plopping down onto the cushions with a satisfied sigh, the pot still in hand. "... heh, a blind lawyer – have you made that 'justice is blind' joke yet?"

"I'm waiting for the right moment," Darcy slumped into the seat next to him, scooting over to make room for Lucky to jump up and settle his head in her lap. "Matt aside, our secretary also seems to have a death wish." 

"Oh?" 

"She's trying to take down Confed Global by herself... literally," Darcy groaned. "Seriously, she's going around in broad daylight talking to reporters and stuff." 

"If you need some extra eyes, ask Katie." Clint grabbed the remote, cheering a little when the screen lit up with the opening of Dog Cops. "It'll get her to stop stealing my coffee."

"Why do you think I brought two bags?" Darcy smirked. "You have 'til Monday to get through it all." 

"And that's why you're my favorite, Lewis." Clint reached out to ruffle her hair. "… But seriously. If you need help, or you run into this guy, call me, or Tasha. We got you."

"I know." She punched his shoulder playfully, making sure to hit a sport free of bandages or bruises. "Plus, I still have Sasha Fierce to protect me." 

"... Of course your taser is named after Beyonce." Clint scratched at a scab on his cheek, rolling his eyes. "And what if you miss?" 

"Run like hell?" Darcy slumped into the seat next to him, scooting over to make room for Lucky to jump up and settle his head in her lap. "Or better yet, can you send Spiderman to save me instead? He looks like he'd be pretty cute." 

"Cute?" Clint snorted into his coffee, looking extremely amused for some reason. "You can't even see his face - he might be in high school, for all you know."

"Pft, have you  _seen_  his ass?" Darcy sighed dreamily. "No way a twitchy little teenager has a butt like that.  _Mmph_." 

"Uh-huh." Clint hid his grin behind the coffee pot, eyes resolutely fixed to the television screen. "Whatever you say, Darce... whatever you say." 

* * *

"Aww, c'mon phone..."

She was dozing on the couch still when she heard Clint swear softly, but didn't pay it any mind as she heard him shuffle around the apartment hurriedly. 

"Quiet down, I'm tryin' to sleep here," she slurred, pushing Lucky's head away from her nose and rolling over to try and get comfortable again.

Ugh, there was something poking her. "... you have to get up." 

"Noo," she moaned, and she faintly heard Clint's heavy sigh.

"Darcy, wake up!" She felt a hand shaking her shoulder roughly, and she opened her eyes just enough to see Clint's blurred form standing over her, his t-shirt and sweats from earlier traded in for his Hawkeye combat gear. 

"Wha...?" 

"You're gonna want to see this," Clint said quietly. "Hell's Kitchen is burning."

Darcy shot up, fighting the wooziness that assaulted her brain as her eyes found the screen of the television, WHiH showing shaky cell-phone footage of what looked like the world burning to pieces. The locations of the accidents -  _explosions? bombings? terrorist attacks? alien invasion?_  - scrolled across the bottom of the screen, and Darcy's breath caught as she realized that one of the addresses was a mere block away from Mrs. Cardenas's apartment complex.

Mrs. Cardenas _. Foggy and Karen._

"Oh my god," she breathed, and Clint nodded, strapping on his boots. "What the hell happened?"

"An explosion or five, give or take." He leaned over to grab the bow hanging on the wall above her before striding towards the front door. "Cap's asking Stark to check it out, with me on support."

"Wait, I'm coming with you!" Darcy stood up, quickly grabbing her bag, but Clint caught her by the arm and hauled her back inside just as she tried to dash past him for the stairs. 

"No way," he said, shaking his head. "You're going to stay here until I get back." 

She stared at him flatly. "You're joking. I have to see if they're - "

"Stay, or I'll handcuff you to the staircase, Darcy." On any other occasion she would've made a joke, but this was definitely not the time nor place. 

"Like hell I am," she snarled. "My cousin's out there, Clint!" 

He looked sympathetic, but shook his head again. "Don't make me ask Simone to play babysitter." 

She scowled at him. "... I'm stay." Simone was a sweetheart, but Darcy still had nightmares about trying to calm a screaming baby while an equally loud toddler hollered like a banshee while clinging to her back. 

He studied her for a moment, then nodded shortly. "I'll call you when I'm on my way back." Turning to Lucky, who sat at his feet patiently, he gave the dog a scratch behind his ears. "Keep Darcy safe, okay boy? Make sure she  _stays here_."  

Lucky barked once, saluting in an oddly human fashion before Clint smiled and slipped out the door, waving back at her once before he swung the door shut. She listened for the sound of the locks turning and bolting, and Clint's hurried footsteps fading as he ran down the hall. 

She waited a full minute before looking down at Lucky. "If you let me go, I'll buy you a whole pizza." 

Lucky barked at her, his head shaking back and forth, and she huffed. "Two pizzas, _and_ you can come with me." 

At this, he cocked his head to the side, and she wheedled, "I'll give you belly rubs whenever I visit?" 

Lucky's eyes lit up, and he immediately dropped to the floor and rolled onto his back, legs sprawled up and out in the air as he panted excitedly. 

"Oh, fine." Darcy groaned, but dropped to her knees and began scratching. "But we're leaving after this." 

Lucky just leaned over to lick at her arm happily, his tail wagging double time. 

* * *

Darcy was just about ready to throttle every tourist clogging up Union Square when her cell phone rang. 

"Shit," she muttered, seeing Clint's name on the caller ID. The phone fell silent, then lit up with text messages.

 **Clint Barton** , 11:53 p.m.  
WHERE ARE YOU

 **Clint Barton** , 11:53 p.m.  
WHERE IS LUCKY

 **Clint Barton** , 11:53 p.m.  
YOU STOLE MY BICYCLE?!

"... Double shit." Darcy shoved the phone back in her pocket as she went back to screaming at a group of frat boy tourists trying to do backflips off a bench and into the street. "Oi, assholes! Get the fuck out of the bike lane!"

"Crazy bitch!" One of them yelled after her as she barreled through, not bothering to slow down, and she merely flipped him off over her shoulder. Lucky, who was balancing with his forelegs over her shoulders and his hindlegs in the basket behind the seat, tried chewing on her fingers, but she quickly withdrew her hand before he could try scrambling over her shoulder. 

She was just cutting across 25th Street to try and get up 6th Avenue when her phone started ringing again, but she nearly went straight into traffic when the screen lit up with Foggy's name.  

"Darcy?" 

"Oh thank god." She sagged into the bicycle seat. "Oh thank fucking god. Are you - ?"

"Fine, I'm fine, I'm just - " he groaned, and Darcy inhaled sharply.

"Foggy, tell me where you are, I'm gonna come get you - "

"No!" She was startled by the vehemence in his voice. "Darcy, you have to find Matt."

Her hand tightened around her phone in alarm. "Matt? He isn't with you?"  

"Karen and I were with Mrs. C when the explosions hit - " Foggy moaned again, the rustle of fabric sending static through the speaker. " - we're at Metro General -" 

Darcy swallowed the instinct to panic. "... You got hurt." 

"I'm fine, all of us are fine, Darce, but..." She heard Foggy take a shuddering breath. "Darce, you have to find Matt, we tried calling and he's not picking up and - "

"Last I saw him, we were at the precinct," she said hurriedly, jamming her headphones over her head as she plugged them into the speaker jack and started pedaling down the street. Illegal or not, she didn't really care at the moment. "I'll go over to his place, I'm in Chelsea." 

She could practically hear Foggy's frown through the phone. "... I thought you were visiting a friend in Bed-Stuy?" 

"I was, and then I stole his bike." Lucky, who had been patiently resting against her back the whole time, whined at the smell of smoke wafting through the street and buried his nose into her neck. 

" _His_ bike?"

"We can do the protective cousin routine later." Darcy jerked to a stop as she just missed the yellow light, glaring furiously at the traffic signal. "Give me his address." 

"We'll talk about this later," he muttered. "48th and 11th, top floor." 

"48th, 11th, got it." She took a sharp left through traffic, one that had cars honking and Lucky nearly strangling her in fright. "I'll call you when I get there." 

"Thank you." Foggy sighed. "... please, please let him be at home." 

"I'm sure he's fine, his phone is probably just out of battery, or something." she said, but the words sounded hollow, even to her. "... He's fine. He's _fine_."  

"I know, I know, I..." His voice trailed off, "Darcy, do me a favor?"

"Yeah?"

"If you see that asshole in the black mask?" She listened to him grit his teeth. " _Run_." 

"Isn't that obvious?" she quipped, but Foggy's response was quiet. 

"He killed three policemen in the past two hours." She blinked, trying to process Foggy's words as he continued, "They're saying he's the reason for the explosions - something about wiping out the Russian mob over some feud..." 

Her stomach dropped. "Wiping out the Russian - ?!"

"I'm not joking, Darcy. _Promise_ me." 

_Hell's Kitchen, full of explosions. The man in the mask, a cop killer. The Russian mob, gone. Matt, missing in action._

She clenched the handlebar tighter. "I promise."

"... Thank you." Foggy exhaled softly. "Stay safe." 

"I will."

The line went silent. She looked at the smoke curling up in dark plumes, black against the hazy sky, and started pedaling faster as Lucky whimpered.

"You and me both, boy." She reached up with a hand to stroke his head comfortingly. "You and me both."  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lateness on this chapter -- my cousin is graduating (with a PhD!) this weekend, and I've been typing this on the bus.... Not a conducive work environment sadly. I'll come back to edit this later, but I wanted to get it up because it's already a little later than usual. 
> 
> So Hawkguy and Lucky make an appearance! I hope you guys liked the scenes with them - to be honest, I haven't actually read the 2012 Hawkeye comics yet, but I'm meaning to get them soon, so if there's any OOC-ness I apologize! 
> 
> Hope you guys like the newest chapter, and next chapter will be pretty interesting too ;) Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> I binge-watched Daredevil, and then did it again. And then this happened. 
> 
> ** Title adapted from _Leave My Body,_ by Florence + The Machine.


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